


31 Winter Days

by eerian_sadow



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Christmas songs, Community: tf_rare_pairing, Established Relationship, F/M, First Meeting, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Tissues, implied sex, mentions of sticky sexual interfacing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-02-28 01:27:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2713895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>31 short fills for the Winter Calendar Challenge at TF Rare Pairing on Livejournal and Dreamwidth. Pairings and ratings will vary by day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jazz/Bluestreak

1\. Bluestreak beamed at him when Jazz limped through the door of their quarters. "Hey, you're home! I thought Ratchet wasn't releasing you until tomorrow!"

 

2\. The saboteur smiled softly as he tucked a soft blanket around the sniper's shoulders and then turned off Bluestreak's game system. The other mech would probably wake with stiff wings, but it was better than Jazz disturbing him when he was actually recharging peacefully for a change.

 

3\. Blue settled against Jazz's chest with a contented sigh as the hot watter lapped against their plating. "I could stay like this forever."

"Nah, not forever," the black and white mech replied. "We're not close enough to the volcano for the water to stay hot that long."

"Spoilsport." The sliver mech splashed water up onto his partner's shoulder. "Though, I'm sure we could think of ways to keep the water warm."

 

4\. "Now that the treaty's signed and we can go back home, what do you want to do?"

"Hmm. I think I want to go exploring here on Earth before I go back. We saw a lot of the US but not so much of the rest of the world."

"That sounds fun. Think I could come with you? I don't know if I'm ready to go back to Cybertron yet."

"Blue, I wouldn't want anything else."

 

5\. (Set in my Jazz Prime AU)

"Is it true? Are you really Prime in the future?"

The visored mech looked at him, more weary and old than Bluestreak could ever remember seeing Jazz, and nodded. "Yeah. Excogitus Prime. Pretty pretentious, huh?"

"There's probably been worse." Bluestreak reached out slowly and took the future Prime's hand. Excogitus looked up at him in shock. "I know it's been hard, fighting Unicron in the future. I just want you to know that I'll listen, if you need to talk about it or anything. Or if you just need a friend."

"Bluestreak, I can't get attached. I can't let you get attached. Once we've defeated Unicron here, I may not exist anymore."

"Or you'll still exist and not have any friends left. I'm not letting you live in fear." Blue took the Prime's other hand. "And nothing you say is going to stop me."

"How do we all forget how strong you grew up to be?" The black and white mech asked. Carefully, he squeezed the younger mech's hands in return. "I have a condition on talking."

"Okay."

"You can't call me Prime. I'm not... That's Optimus, you know? When it's just us, I don't want to be Prime anymore."

"I can do that." Bluestreak smiled widely. "Jazz."


	2. First Aid/Hook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sleeping in

First Aid groaned when his alarm woke him for his duty shift, still feeling groggy and plesantly stiff and sore from the previous night's events. His night with the Constructicon medic had been unexpected, but very definitely worth the experience--no matter how unplesant waking up was turning out to be.

He sighed and started to sit up, unwilling to be late to the Medbay no matter how much he would rather stay with his berthmate.

The young medic squeaked when a strong green arm pulled him back down to the berth. "Hook! I have to be on duty soon!"

"Go back to recharge, Aid," The Constructicon murmured, nuzzling against the Protectobot's helm. "Prime already cleared your schedule today."

Rodimus had cleared his schedule? How had he even known? He desperately hoped Hot Spot (or worse, Slignshot!) hadn't said anything. "Oh." 

The older mech squeezed him more tightly, and First Aid allowed himself to be seduced into snuggling back against Hook's chest plates.

Hook wrapped both arms around the smaller mech and held him close. "Now, go back to recharge. I have detailed plans for our afternoon entertainment."

"All right." One day off wouldn't hurt. And he did need the rest. An unrested medic was a liability just waiting to become an accident and...

Hook chuckled softly as the Autobot's optics faded into sleep mode, then he re-initiated his own recharge cycle and powered back down.


	3. Starscream/Barricade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Microfics, warning for implied sexual content in the first fic.

1\. Barricade glared up at the jet towering over him. Starscream glared back just as angrily. Neither of them moved until the grounder's engine revved with more arousal than anger, then Starscream grabbed the smaller mech's shoulders and slammed him into the wall. Barricade growled with desire as the larger mech dragged claws over his interface hatch and willingly opened his plating to the flier's advances.

 

2\. Starscream dropped behind the wall that was sheltering Barricade as the Autobots' launched a cloud of missles toward the Decepticon aerial forces. The grounder grumbled at having to share his space, but made room for the larger mech.

"If we get out of this alive," the Seeker hissed, "I am killing your intelligence drone."

"Already did that," Barricade replied, pointing at the drone's corpse with an energon-stained finger.

 

3\. Starscream lifted Barricade's broken body and turned his back on Soundwave, daring Megatron's pet to keep him from repairing the groundfamed mech. One day, the drone master would have cause to regret assaulting the Air Commander's partner. 

As the humans said, revenge was best served cold.


	4. Ironhide/Mirage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set post-1986 move
> 
> WARNING: not happy! you might bring a tissue

"I miss you," the noble said simply, kneeling down in front of the memorial he and Hound had constructed outside the _Ark_. It was a simple affair, like their lives on Earth had been and without all the flash and pomp of the space mausoleum that Rodimus was planning.

Ironhide would have liked the simple memorial best.

"Of all of us, I thought you would live to see the end, you know. Even with all those shots you took for Optimus, I always thought you were too stubborn to die. And yet, here we are."

Mirage sighed and scattered a handful of lab-grown crystals across the small plate engraved with his lover's name. His hand trembled as the last of the red stones--carefully matched to the old mech's paint--fell off his fingertips. "You always thought this was such a silly tradition, but I thought it was better than leaving flowers the way Carly always does. Crystals last longer."

He sighed deeply, feeling weary to his struts and twice as old as Ironhide had been. "I never thought I would have to say goodbye to you."


	5. The Blessing of Primus' Blood (Megatron/Prowl)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron and Prowl meet during a fertility celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Bayverse AU that kind of sprang itself on me. Sentinel Prime was Optimus' predacessor and Alpha Trion is/was his Lord Protector (no one said you have to be a huge war machine to be a protector!). He has been regent while Optimus and Megatron grew up, and is something of a father figure for them.
> 
> There's a lot to this particular celebration, so feel free to ask questions if you want to know more!

Megatron fidgeted, subtly and politely, as yet another senator was introduced and presented to the Prime and Protector. He hated the tedium of the Procession of Stars--and truthfully, Optimus wasn't fond of it either--but he forced himself to stay next to his brother as the Ceremony of Primus' Blood dictated.

That tradition could get slagged for all he cared, but Megatron refused to shame his brother when Alpha Trion called them both out for his absence.

"I can only see three more, brother," Optimus whispered as the senator stepped away. "Then you only need to mingle with a few guests before you can go."

"Thank Primus for small favors. I thought perhaps the entire Senate had turned out for the Procession this solar." Megatron kept his tone as low as his twin's, but the next senator to be presented still glared reproachfully at him. 

The warrior faked a smile and fidgeted again. Two more mechs would still be too many.

-_-_-_-_-

He was trapped in a corner, being chattered at by one of Starscream's fawning underlings--a mech whose name he had forgotten almost immediately upon being introduced--when he caught sight of the Praxian mech stepping into the Grand Hall. The mech was smooth and rounded in the way of most of the civilian class frames, but he moved with a control and grace that contradicted his appearance. The elegant upward sweep of his sensory wings drew the optic to the mech's face and a striking chevron, an unusual feature in a civilian model, kept the attention there. The Lord Protector found himself unable to look away.

"Who is that?" Megatron asked, turning away from the smaller Seeker so that he could study the Praxian more closely.

"Who, the Praxian? No one worthy of your time, My Lord."

"I did not ask for an evaluation of his worth," the Lord Protector snapped. "I wanted his name."

"His name is Prowl, My Lord," Starscream cut in, returning returning to the conversation as if the Air Commander had never abandoned his superior to his minion's mercy. "A young warrior from Praxus who specializes in hand to hand combat. I have heard that he has applied to be the captain of your twin's personal guard."

"Your information is surprisingly complete, Starscream. Are you afraid of finally having competition?"

The Seeker made a derisive noise. "Hardly. Prowl happens to be the talk of the barracks currently. Apparently he has enough skill to take down that walking cannon of yours during training."

"Ironhide is strong, loyal and competent, but he has always been weakest in hand to hand combat. Perhaps this Prowl is finally the tool he needs to sharpen that skill." The Lord Protector nodded to the pair of Seekers. "I believe I shall 'mingle' with him next."

Starscream's amused chuckle didn't drown out his subordinate's indignant sputter as Megatron walked away. 

The crowd parted for him as he made his way toward the altar where the attending guests left their sacrifices, many of them bowing or wishing him the Blood's Blessing. He answered them absently, attention focused on the Praxian who was kneeling in front of the altar.

Prowl's wings twitched as the Lord Protector stopped behind him. "A moment please, My Lord, as I commune with Primus."

"Of course." Megatron nodded even though the other mech wasn't looking at him and gave Prowl his peace.

Prowl prayed for several kliks before rising to his feet in a smooth motion that allowed the soft lighting of the Grand Hall to highlight his black and white frame enticingly. The High Protector would have scolded himself for focusing so much on appearance, but the Praxian was such an alluring mixture of warrior and civilian that he didn't want to look away.

"Thank you for your courtesy, My Lord. How may I help you?"

"A Praxian mech here at the Celestial Temple is quite rare. I confess to being..." The large mech paused, suddenly unsure of what to say. "Curious."

"Curious, My Lord?" Prowl tipped his head slightly, giving Megatron a disbelieving look. "Surely you were aware of my application to the Lord Prime's guard."

"I was not aware until your arrival, no. My brother has forbidden me to meddle with his selection process." The Protector smirked. 

The Praxian quirked his wings in a manner that reminded the Lord Protector of Starscream when the Seeker was exceptionally curious. "Does your brother not trust you, My Lord?"

"My brother trusts me a great deal. He simply wants what he wants in a guard for a change." Megatron gestured toward the refreshment table, hoping the smaller mech would walk with him and keep talking. Prowl had a voice that was surprisingly pleasant to listen to.

"And what is that, My Lord?" Prowl turned toward the refreshment table willingly enough.

"Someone the Senate didn't choose for him. Someone that I did not choose for him." The larger mech shrugged as they began walking. "He is, for the first time in our lives, exercising his privilege in order to get something for himself. I am pleased enough with his assertiveness that I'm content to let him choose his own captain without interference."

"But you are vetting the potential candidates?" The Praxian's tone was dry.

"You are the first that I have shown even the vaguest interest in," Megatron replied honestly.

"I didn't realize my skills were impressive enough to attract the interest of the Lord High Protector."

"Martial skill in a civilian built mechanism _is_ rare." The Lord Protector stopped in front of the refreshment table and waited for the serving mech to pour him a serving of high grade. "And that is certainly enticing enough. But it is not the whole of the reason for my attention."

The server held out two crystal flutes of high grade to them, and Prowl took one and sipped at it thoughtfully before replying. "And what has attracted your attention then, My Lord?"

Megatron took his own energon and sipped at it, enjoying the sharp flavor of the drink as he turned over just how much he wanted to tell this Praxian. If he was too forward, Prowl would likely walk away and he would be deprived of the mech's conversation and potential companionship--and he was beginning to believe he would enjoy the second as much as the first. Finally, he decided to settle on the truth. Prowl seemed canny enough to separate hollow flattery from a genuine attraction. "You are a finely crafted mechanism. I have a deep appreciation for fine craftwork."

The corners of the Praxian's lips quirked upward slightly. "I will pass your compliment on to my creator. I'm certain she will appreciate it. Truthfully, though, My Lord."

"I speak Primus' own truth." Megatron smirked and took another sip of his high grade. "You are quite attractive. And, as I'm certain you have heard through the gossip network, I enjoy an attractive mech."

"And is that all you want from me, My Lord? Because I assure you that I have no interest in overloading my way into a favorable position." The Praxian frowned and set his high grade on the refreshment table. "Nor am I interested in becoming one of your conquests."

"A fair point." Megatron let his tone turn as serious as Prowl's had. "But, as interested in taking you to my berth as I am, it isn't my only motivation. I've enjoyed our conversation thus far, and hope for more."

"We have barely talked about anything, My Lord. And certainly about nothing of substance."

"Of course not. We haven't had time to do more than dance around formality. You negotiate it skillfully, however." The large mech smiled. "I hope to see more of that quick processor in action."

Prowl's posture relaxed a fraction, and Megatron did his best not to look too relieved. "I see. Thank you, My Lord. Perhaps we could move our conversation to a quieter corner, then?"

"I would enjoy that." The Lord Protector picked up the Praxian's drink and held it out. "But one far from Starscream and his Seekers, I think."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Megatron was as delighted with Prowl's quick processor as he had thought he would be. Prowl was a clever, observant mech with a strong grasp of combat tactics and a keen optic for the behavior of other mechanisms. They passed an entire joor before the Lord Protector even noticed, discussing strategy, the quirks of the senators in attendance and the traditions of the Ceremony of Primus' Blood--and how very different they were in Praxus.

"Does no one dance?" Prowl asked, scanning the crowd of politicians and otherwise powerful mechs on the floor. 

Megatron followed his gaze for a moment before shaking his head. "No. Not since Sentinel Prime's deactivation, anyway."

"What is the point in having such a large room, then? In Praxus, we would have to find another room to talk in." Prowl frowned slightly. "Do you dance, My Lord?"

"When the occasion calls for it."

"According to Praxian tradition, the occasion does call for it." The smaller mech's lips quirked back upward. "Perhaps you could ask the court musicians to play something we can dance to?"

"You are being quite forward about this, you know. The Senate would be scandalized."

"It seems only fair, given how forward you've been with me. Will you dance, My Lord?"

Megatron looked out over the crowd and considered how bored he normally was at such formal events. Dancing would give him something to do, and send the politicians--most of whom he could barely tolerate--scrambling to keep up with his example. That _would_ be entertaining, if nothing else. "Yes, Prowl. I believe I will."

Prowl's wings lifted slightly, in a gesture that the Lord Protector was beginning to think indicated his happiness more accurately than any facial expression did. "Thank you, Lord Megatron."

The large mech found himself smiling in response, despite his usual demeanor. "Come with me, and we shall see if the court musicians know anything appropriate."

"Perhaps something fast, to liven the party? This is dull, even for my preferences." The Praxian gave him a small smile in return.

"That sounds like an excellent idea." Megatron's smile turned predatory as they began making their way toward the musicians. He could just imagine seeing some of the senators trying to keep up with the dance he had in mind thanks to Prowl's suggestion.

The musicians kept them waiting for a few kliks as they finished playing their current piece. Once the final notes trailed off, the leader of the quintet turned to Megatron with a respectful bow. "How can we assist you, My Lord?"

"My companion wishes to dance. We were hoping that you have an appropriately fast piece to bring a bit of life to this otherwise boring celebration."

"What did My Lord have in mind?" The musicians all perked up at the request. Clearly, Megatron and Prowl had not been the only attendees who wanted a more lively atmosphere during their celebration.

"I was thinking," The Lord Protector smiled again, "Of something like the Seeker's Flight."

"The Seeker's Flight, My Lord? That's quite a test of skill." The lead musician hesitated.

Megatron looked at Prowl, who stared back at him confidently. "We are quite certain, as long as all of you can keep up."

The musicians nodded confidently to their leader. The leader stood up straight and nodded to Megatron. "We can keep up, My Lord. It will be our pleasure to entertain you and your companion."

"Thank you. I will see to it that you are all well compensated." The large mech extended an arm to the smaller and led Prowl out into an open space on the floor as the quintet began playing.

Megatron and prowl exchanged the traditional opening bow at the opening chords of the song, as the other celebrants began looking at each other in confusion. Prowl's sensory wings were held high and an attractive smile warmed his features. Megatron had a moment to wonder how Starscream's lieutenant had thought the Praxian was unworthy of any attention before he was swept up in the rapid pace of the dance.

Prowl moved with Megatron flawlessly, matching his much longer steps with graceful leaps or hops as needed and practically flying with him across the dance floor. They spun and twisted, moving in sync more perfectly than any other partner the Protector could ever remember having done with previously. The praxian even adapted when Megatron added his own twist to the already involved dance piece, spinning in the air when Megatron tossed him upward during the rather intense closing measures of the song and then draping himself across the Lord Protector's arm in a dip as the music fell silent.

Megatron allowed his optics to roam over the other mech's plating as their cooling systems worked to compensate for their exertion. Prowl noticed the action and smirked. Neither of them noticed the now-silent crowd watching them.

"That was exhilarating, My Lord. Shall we request another dance piece?"

The Lord Protector grinned and opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted by another voice.

"There is no need," Optimus said, stepping into the circle the crowd had left around the dancers with a tall, pink femme tucked against his side. "Elita has already requested another, so that we can join the two of you."

The large mech nodded and lifted the Praxian back to his feet. "As you wish, brother."

Prowl frowned softly at Megatron. "What I believe Lord Megatron means is thank you, Lord Prime."

"Of course he does." Optimus smiled widely enough to cause the plating around his optics to overlap in crinkled layers. "My brother is simply bowing to the formality required of us in such a public setting."

"I see there are some things I will still have to learn if I stay in the temple." The small mech bowed his head respectfully.

"Elita is an excellent instructor in matters of etiquette." The Prime smiled down at the femme. "I am certain she can teach you what you need to know."

"Thank you, Lord Prime. My Lady."

"You are most welcome. Now, let us dance." The red and blue mech gestured to the musicians and spun away with Elita as they began to play.

"You're worrying over nothing you know," Megatron told him as he led Prowl into the next dance.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

More dancers joined them throughout the rest of the celebration, making it finally feel like the parties Megatron remembered from his earliest vorns while Sentinel Prime was still online. Some of the elder Senators had made disapproving noises during the night, but no one had dared to try and stop any of the dancers. Megatron and Prowl had thoroughly enjoyed themselves, and both of them were still smiling as the last few celebrants began to move toward the door and the day-cycle lights began to turn on.

"Have you considered my earlier proposition?" Megatron asked.

"Your proposition, My Lord?" 

"Allowing me to appreciate your well-crafted frame?" The large mech rested a hand carefully on Prowl's back. "I would still very much like to, especially after your display of skill tonight."

"And just what would this appreciation entail, My Lord?" The Praxian allowed himself to be pulled closer to the Lord Protector.

"A very careful examination of each millimeter of your plating, an extensive cataloging of the sounds you are capable of making, and a complete testing cycle for your interface equipment," Megatron smirked slightly. "All in the privacy of my personal suite."

"Your personal suite, My Lord? Won't there be gossip?"

"Let them talk." The silver mech leaned in, close enough that he could kiss the Praxian if Prowl allowed it. "I would prefer your company in my berth to worrying about what other mechanisms will say about it. A night, or more, in my berth is between the two of us and no mech else."

"More than one night, Lord Megatron?" Prowl quirked an optic ridge questioningly. "That seems presumptuous."

"Not at all, if we are as compatible in the berth as we have been elsewhere."

"Hm." The black and white mech was thoughtful for a moment. "I suppose the only way to gauge our compatibility would be through extensive testing."

"Yes, exactly." Megatron checked Prowl's face carefully for any sign of rejection, then leaned the rest of the way in toward the Praxian and pressed his lips to the smaller mech's.

Prowl hummed and wrapped his arms around Megatron's neck, pulling himself flush against the warframe's chest plates and tilting his head so that he could deepen the kiss. The Lord Protector responded by nipping at the Praxian's lower lip before sweeping his glossa across it to soothe the sting. The smaller mech whimpered softly.

Then, the large mech drew back just enough that he could move his lips to speak. "Was that a yes?"

"Yes, Lord Megatron." Prowl leaned forward and kissed the silver mech again.

Megatron growled and wrapped his free arm around the Praxian, holding him tightly. Prowl's fingers flexed against the warframe's plating as he was embraced by the large mech's arms, and Megatron could feel the arousal flare through the smaller mech.

The Lord Protector tipped his head slightly and parted his lips, deepening the kiss. The black and white mech took advantage of the action, sweeping his glossa into Megatron's mouth. The silver mech groaned as his companion's talented glossa teased along taste sensors before stopping to tangle with his own. 

Two sets of cooling fans whirred to life as they kissed, and Megatron marveled at the almost perfect mech in his arms. 

"My Lord," Prowl drew back almost unwillingly, "We should," Megatron interrupted with a quick kiss, "Retire to your chambers."

The Lord Protector kissed him again, hard and passionate, before replying. "Yes. I want you all to myself tonight."

The Praxian nodded and pulled back as far as Megatron's embrace would allow, though he didn't try to break free of the large mech's arms. "Lead the way, My Lord. For the rest of the Blood's Cycle, I am yours."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Megatron came online slowly, smiling at the warm weight in his arms and the memory of his day spent with Prowl. The Praxian had been as wonderful a berth partner as he was a dancer or conversationalist and the Lord Protector knew he would be savoring the smaller mech's expressions and replaying the memory of the way Prowl's valve had felt around his cord for cycles. And the way he had cried out during overload...

Even if Optimus didn't accept Prowl as captain of the Prime's Guard, Megatron would find a reason to place the mech in his own guard just to keep him around. Starscream was a capable Air Commander and Second-in-Command, but he wasn't nearly as perceptive or clever as Prowl and his presence wasn't nearly as enjoyable.

"My Lord, I enjoyed our liaison greatly but I am exhausted." Prowl's voice was soft, but irritated as he reached down and moved Megatron's hand away from his valve.

"Forgive me," The Lord Protector chuckled and rested his hand on the smaller mech's hip. "I was replaying the memory files and got carried away."

"Allow me to go back to recharge and I will consider it."

"As you wish." The large mech checked his chronometer and sighed. "I must meet with my brother in less than a joor at any rate. Will you be all right here?"

"As long as none of your servants wake me, yes." The black and white mech rolled away from him and buried his face in one of the soft pillows covering Megatron's berth in a clear dismissal.

"I will make sure they don't." Megatron chuckled again before climbing out of the berth. If he hurried, he had time for a wash before meeting with Optimus.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"I am glad you approve of my choice for Captain of the Prime's Guard," Optimus said with a touch of amusement when Megatron stepped into the throne room. "I hope that you intend to allow him to perform his duties before engaging in any recreational activities."

"I approve of your new captain greatly." Megatron smiled at the red and blue mech. "But his sense of duty will certainly override his interface drive. He is already very loyal to you."

"Excellent. I am gratified to hear that." Optimus returned his twin's smile. "You will be able to work with him, then?"

"In both your defense and the Empire's. I would have contrived to keep him around even if you weren't making him captain."

"And not just because you find him to be a desirable berth partner?"

"That's just a benefit. Have you seen how the Seekers behave when he's around? Your Captain is going to bring the army to an efficiency level it has never seen or he's going to bring it to its knees."


	6. Blaster & Jazz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaster is playing Christmas songs on repeat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fills the winter calendar prompt "songs on repeat"

"Blaster, don't you have some different tunes in there? This is the third time in an hour you've played "Silent Night"."

The communication specialist blinked and stared at the black and white mech facing him. "Sure. I queued up Carly's Christmas playlist just like she asked. Want me to reshuffle it?"

"No. I want you to play something else. Anything else." Jazz sighed loudly. "Don't tell any of the humans I said this, but I'm so sick of Christmas music that I might purge if I have to hear anymore."

"Oh, thank Primus." Blaster's shoulders sagged in relief and a harder rock tune came on in place of the holiday track. "I thought it was just me, so I've had my receptors filtering it out."


End file.
